


Points of View

by StregataDalloStregatto



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5778436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StregataDalloStregatto/pseuds/StregataDalloStregatto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Herald realizes that her fighiting skills need an improvment, and a quick one. But she embarassed herself with the Commander, so asking for his help isn't possible... or maybe it is?<br/>All of this under the eyes of a romantic lady Seeker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Points of View

**Author's Note:**

> If you like Dragon Age stuff and fantasy things, here is
> 
> [my Tumbrl](http://stregatadallostregatto.tumblr.com/) .

It was almost evening and she knew that soon he would dismissed the recruits, allowing them to return in their accomodations.

She could do it. Absolutely.

After all, this wasn’t the first time that Demetra Sòphie Trevelyan, former younger daughter of a little Free Marcher noble family, recent Herald of Andraste, newly herethic, spoke with Cullen Stanton Rutherford, former Knight – Commander, recently handsome Commander of the Inquisiton Army, the man with _the_ smirk, hero in his free time, right ?

Right.

 _And allow me to remember you what you said the last time that you two spoke_ , her brain suggested derisive.

Merciful Andraste, she couldn’t avoid to blush reminding their last conversation

Did she really ask him if he was a virgin?

She did.

Demetra Sòphie Trevelyan, the woman who couldn’t think the word “sex” without blushing as a novice, who had reached the aged of twenty seven with an almost absent love – life, had approached this absolutly stunning, almost stranger for asking him about is sexual life.

Of course, she left their conversation as soon as she understood what she asked, hoping that the Maker hit her with a lighting.

How this happened?

How?!

At the beginnign, she was just curious about the Templars.

He was the first man who had left the Order that she ever met, so probably he’d be more friendly, in comparison to the other members she had known in the past, all stoic faces and rigid posture.

Demetra scraped together her little bravery for speaking with him and, at the beginning, she was doing well. Even if her brother was a Templar, she knew so little about his Order that her curiosity triumphed on her shyness. The Sisters in the Chantry just vaguely said her that the Templars were their shield against the evilness of the maleficarum and their sword against the abominations. Poetic, but rather useless.

The Commander was different, more specific. Despite all her questions, he answered politely as always and he even spoke a little about his past experiences with the Mage.

But Demetra noticed that the matter wasn’t very pleasent for him and tried to change the subject.

She felt almost confident, all smiles and appropriate words, while he was explaing her something about a ritual and a vigil to do before taking the vows.

And suddenly it happened.

 _Chastity vows_.

She asked him about chastity vows.

More precisely, she asked him about _his_ chastity vows.

Groaning and shaking her head, the Herald realized that she couldn’t ask him anything, not now at least. Cullen was probably still embarassed for her lack of discretion. She remembered perfectly when she caught him to stare at her, during a meeting that same day.

To be honest, it wasn’t the first time. She knew he looked at her other times.

Initially, Demetra thought it was beacause of her.

She was surely a strange Maker’s choice for becoming a Herald. Probably he was disappointed.

The second time, the Herald was wearing a new armor, made specifically for her by Harritt recovering pieces here and there. Probably the Commander was osberving how ridiculous she was and Demetra, sadly, agreed with him. The armor was ugly, heavy and made for the battlefield. It was so much different from her old outfitting, the Ostwick armor that was lighter, finely carved and properly made for her size.

Harritt had to work hard for adapting the new one to her unusually big body. She knew it and she found herself embarassing. A chubby warrior, with a strange armor. But she also wanted to stay alive during the future battles and there wasn’t time or money for having a totally customized armor. So, Demetra swallowed her chagrin and stared openly at the Commander, challenging him to say a word.

Just as the times before, Cullen blushed and turned away quickly.

It happened other times and sometimes she looked at him again, but much often she ignored the thing. Also because she stared at him enough when they were out of that romm and this made her so angry. All right, he had a lot of good qualities. And he was a good man. A beautiful, good man. And she was a silly, stupid little girl that couldn't manage a little crush. However, after a pair of conversations together, she understood that the Commander, surprisingly, seemed find her company enjoyable. 

And wasn’t scared by her green hand. 

And more than once he admitted she was doing well as Herald, encouraging her with warm smile and wise advises.

So, why he stared at her so often?

A grunt, followed by a thud, captured her attention, stopping her contemplation.

The lady Seeker, or better Cassandra-  how she had clarified dryly after the first time that Demetra had used her title - was still training alone, despite the late hour. Demetra observed enchanted her moves.

Cassandra was powerful, but controlled. Her lunges were imposing, never made without balancing better her feet in the snowy ground.

If her opponent’d be able to block her move, she wouldn’t fall. It was a way of fighting based mostly on the self control, rather than on the mere strength.

The Herald smiled, finding a solution which didn’t involve the umpteenth suicide of her dignity.

Blessed Andraste, Demetra thought, Cassandra appeared even taller while was balancing again the poor, now broken, training puppet with harsh moves. And even more trained and warlike, while she was looking at the Herald, hands on her strapping hips and a pensive look on her face.

Unless Demetra knew that, despite her brusque manners, the Seeker was friendly, she’d probably ran away. Not only for her threatening look, but mostly because the Herald was used to people staring at her, well before that she had a magical, glowing, green hand.

People always stared. And murmured. And doubted about her skills as a warrior, seeing just a bigger body, not a willing young girl who tried to learn properly how to fight.

“You want me to train you.” the older woman repeated, deflecting her mind from such a regrettable memories.

The past was gone, or at least she was trying to let it go.

Now, the Herald needed to start again and something was telling her that nobody in the Inquisition would object to have one more warrior. Even a chubby one.

Demetra agreed quickly “I’d really appreciate, it. I’m sure you noticed during our trip in the Hinterlands that I need… a better technique.”.

“To be honest, you did well in the Hinterlands.” Cassandra said, putting back her sword in the sheath and half – smiling “I don’t know more warriors that could support a Templar’s attack with just a little damage for themselves.”.

Three ribs cracked, a wrist dislocated and tons of elfroot for calming the bruises’s pain wasn’t exactly what Demetra considered “a little damage”, but she decided to accept the compliment with a grateful smile.

“So,” the Herald said cautiously, shifting on her feet “will you help me?”

“No.”.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for reading. And thank you a lot, a lot, a lot for every kudos and comments!


End file.
